88 lines
3.7 KiB
Markdown
88 lines
3.7 KiB
Markdown
Title: The Incredible Burden of Gifts
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We have this weekly ritual in the house where we go through and find old stuff we aren't using,
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and put it in a pile by the door.
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It's become a permanent pile,
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not because we aren't getting rid of the things,
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but because we're constantly putting stuff there.
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It's become part of weekly house cleaning.
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Since last Christmas,
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we've agreed as a family that a lot of the stuff will be more valuable if we never even take it out of the box.
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So now there are regularly one or two unopened boxes of stuff in the pile.
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Right now there is an unopened electronic puzzle Ginnie won at a science conference.
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This means I can finally write this essay,
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because there's nothing in the pile any of our relatives sent us,
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so I don't have to worry about somebody stumbling across this and getting upset that we're not even opening their gift.
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I don't know when,
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but at some point in my lifetime we went from not having enough,
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to having too much.
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It got to where it was easy to fulfill your needs,
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and then easy to fulfill your desires,
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and at that point, gifts became a management problem.
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If there was something you wanted,
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you just went out and bought it.
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But twice a year (at least),
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a couple dozen people wanted to know what *they* could go buy and mail to you.
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So you have to try and dream up some stuff that you didn't want enough to go get yourself,
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and put it on a list,
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so that people who care about you can go buy it,
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put it in a box,
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but that box in a bigger box,
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then ship it to you.
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In an effort to show that you really care about a person,
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you might decide you'll make them something.
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That's really sweet,
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but it's still a problem.
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Here's a photo of my 13 coats.
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I gathered them all up as I was going through trying to make room in my closet for more gifts,
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because I knew I was going to have to get rid of some of them.
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I can even tell you the story behind each one:
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1. The University of Washington gave me this to thank me for flying up to run a 2-day computer security exercise.
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1. Amy sewed this for me for our first Christmas together.
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1. My company gave this to me for our annual Christmas gift.
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1. Amy bought me this at Glacier National Monument.
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1. Ginnie bought me this with her own money when she went to Canada on her own at the age of 10.
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1. Hollie sewed this for me for a Christmas present
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1. I bought this for myself because I wanted a classy-looking wool winter coat.
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1. My dad gave me this
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1. I used a ton this when Amy and I got our first apartment together.
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1. Got this for doing a 200-mile ride from Seattle to Portland with Kellie.
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1. Company holiday gift
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1. Wore this every day bike commuting in Seattle
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1. Bicycled 209 miles in one day on my 30th birthday, got this jacket
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I only ever wear two of these.
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I don't need 13 fucking coats.
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Which ones do I get rid of?
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With one exception, they all mean something to me.
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Some of them are even hand-made,
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or represent a real sacrifice in some way.
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Getting rid of them dishonors the intentions of the person who gave them to me.
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After three hours wringing my hands about it,
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I wound up deciding that I could get rid of all but four of them.
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I kept the one Amy made,
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the one Ginnie bought,
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and the two that I actually wear.
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I feel really, horribly bad about getting rid of some of the rest,
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even though I know the people who gave them to me would think that was silly.
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But I wish people would understand this causes serious stress.
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Ginnie has been known to cry for hours about having run out of space to store gifts.
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You can say all you want to that you don't care what we do with them,
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but *we* care what we do with them,
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and when you burden us with these things it makes us mad.
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I don't think you want to make us mad, but that's what happens.
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Please stop giving us gifts.
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